


The Real Origins of Billy the Skull

by disaronnus



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Flash Fic, Gen, Humor, Kissing, Zeppelins, fic writers' retreat 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 07:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15724779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disaronnus/pseuds/disaronnus
Summary: How Billy the Skull found a home at 221B Baker Street.This came out of the flash fic session at the 2018 Fic Writer's Retreat, moderated by the hilarious and wonderfulbesina





	The Real Origins of Billy the Skull

Mrs. Hudson settled herself back deeper into the cozy plush of the red velvet divan. First class on the Transatlantic Express, she thought fondly, taking a sip of the perfectly brewed, piping-hot gunpowder tea that the Zeppelin Attendant (a fit young man in late or early 30s, with silvered blond hair and twilight-blue eyes, moving with the slightest hitch in his step) had just poured her from a porcelain teapot, was no joke. That teapot was no joke either: hand-painted, trimmed in gold, Dutch province, 17th century, it would fetch a tidy sum on the black market - few thousand pounds at least. She made a note for later.

Ahhhhhh. She wriggled her toes in the rose-scented, epsom-salt bath that the attendant had also drawn for her (really, what a scrummy thing that one was: there was an intensity to him, a thoroughness in way he went about all his tasks, that she could definitely put to good use later). Hmmmm, yes, she decided. After all, she did have to celebrate. She smiled - a long, slow smile - and lifted a dainty foot out of the booth to nudge the floral handbag on the floor open.

"Don't you agree, Billy?" she inquired, flourishing her cup of tea in a high, broad salute.

The vacant eyes and bloody, gaping mouth of the late, dead William Hudson stared silently back at her.

"That's what I thought," she purred in satisfaction, blowing her former husband a kiss. Yes, the tasty blond attendant, on the divan, knees spread wide, a bit later. She'd need an afternoon snack if nothing else.

After all, murder was demanding work.


End file.
